


craving the past

by akapeterman



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: BUT NOBODY IS DEAD, Gen, Kid Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), May Parker is a queen, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Precious Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony lives, Vomit Mention, Worried Tony Stark, because hes different like that, bruce banner and rhodey have a tea party, but dont forget may either shes just on a well needed vaca, eventually, i really put him through the wringer here, like a lot, nothing too graphic though, peter parker at the lakehouse, with sandwiches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akapeterman/pseuds/akapeterman
Summary: Peter opened his door and went to get his bag from Happy, but the moment his feet hit the rocky ground, black and white dots flashed across his vision and he stumbled.“Woah…”A firm hand planted itself on Peter’s upper arm and everything slowly came back into focus. Shit. This might be worse than he thought.or ; Peter's down with the flu at the lakehouse, but his insecurities get the best of him and he doesn't let Tony know. Unfortunately, things get a whole lot more hectic than he intends.
Relationships: Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 62
Kudos: 561





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heads up: tw for a panic attack near the end! it's not the whole plot of this, but poor peter can't get a break :(

Peter was really starting to get sick of this headache.  


It was low grade, more annoying than anything else, but the pain was definitely there; scrambling his focus and mildly irritating his enhanced senses.  


He just wanted it gone. He was staying at the lakehouse for spring break, and Mr. Stark had warned him that Morgan was recovering from a flu bug and by result was stir crazy and cranky from being cooped up for so long. Morgan was a force to be reckoned with, sick or not, and listening to her throw a tantrum was not at the top of his bucket list with this headache. Mr. Stark had said they could reschedule if he wanted, but May was going to Mexico for the week with Happy and Peter had decided it would be better for his anxiety if he was keeping busy and around people.  


Standing outside searching for Mr. Stark’s car, squinting against the sunlight, he was wondering if he made the wrong choice.  


He didn’t want to be alone, not really, but he was really tired and didn’t want to worry anyone. And Mr. Stark could always tell when he hadn’t been sleeping enough, so he had no chance of trying to hide it.  


A car pulled up in front of him and the window rolled down to reveal a familiar face, but not the one he was expecting.  


“Hop in, kid,” Happy grumbled. “It’s technically my day off and I have to be on time to meet May after her shift is over.”  


Peter buckled himself into the car, glancing curiously at the head of security beside him.  


“Where’s Mr Stark?”  


“What, I’m not good enough for you?” Peter rolled his eyes.  


“You know what I mean. I just thought he was supposed to pick me up today.”  


“Pep had to run into the office and Tony didn’t want to bring Morgan all the way down here; I don’t know if he warned you, but she’s pretty cranky right now.”  


“Oh. Yeah he did, yeah, that makes sense.” Peter couldn’t explain why his chest tightened at the fact. He shivered and pulled his knees up onto the seat to try and keep warm; when had it gotten so cold?  


Happy gave him an odd look that Peter couldn’t quite read before turning his eyes back to the road. He opened his mouth then closed it again.  


“Kid, you’re usually talking my ear off by now. Are you alright?” Happy finally asked, somewhat awkwardly.  


“Sorry, yeah. I’m good. Just had a long day at school.”  


“Okay. Just checking.”  


Peter rested his head on the window, feeling the cool glass ebb away at his ever pounding skull. He zoned out, staring as the roads turned twisty and the city noise faded into the background.  


He didn’t sleep, though he wished he could. In all honesty, Peter kind of assumed this might be where his headache was coming from; he was so tired, but for the past few days, no matter what he just couldn’t seem to sleep. It seemed pointless to even try closing his eyes, so he just watched the trees zoom by in blurs of green.  


The hours passed quickly until finally, Peter felt the car pull into the familiar gravel driveway. Happy got out of the car first, grabbing Peter’s backpack out of the trunk.  


Peter was a little slower. His brain took a moment to process that they had stopped, he still felt like he was moving. He opened his door and went to get his bag from Happy, but the moment his feet hit the rocky ground, black and white dots flashed across his vision and he stumbled.  


“Woah…”  


A firm hand planted itself on Peter’s upper arm and everything slowly came back into focus. Shit. This was worse than he thought.  


“Peter, eyes on me.” Happy snapped his fingers in front of his face and Peter swatted his hand away.  


“I’m good, I’m good.” Happy gave him a look.  


“You almost just took a swan dive into the gravel, try again.”  


“I just need to eat something. I was finishing my Spanish homework at lunch and didn’t really have time to eat, my blood sugars probably low.” Not a total lie, he did skip lunch, but that was more attributed to the vague nausea accompanying his headache than to his Spanish homework.  


Happy looked skeptical but nodded.  


“Go get Tony to make you something to eat, I’ll bring your stuff in.” Peter immediately straightened.  


“Wait, no. Please don’t tell Mr. Stark about the whole...you know. ‘Victorian lady’ moment,” Peter pleaded.  


“No can do, kid. He’s on a need to know basis when it comes to your health.”  


“Please, Happy.” Peter flashed him his puppy dog eyes and Happy relented.  


“Fine. But go eat.” Peter gave him a thumbs up and walked towards the door with Happy not far behind picking up his bags, grumbling under his breath.  


“Damn kid, making me soft.”  
-  


Inside the house was a disaster. There were open children’s books and various toys strewn across the floor, a couple of cushions were pulled off the couches and something was boiling over on the stove.  


Still, Peter felt himself relaxing immediately as the familiar, homey environment welcomed him. He wasn’t even aware he was still so cold until the warmth from the fireplace eased up his shaking hands.  


Tony walked down the hall at the sound of the door, looking as exhausted as Peter felt, and he held a finger to his lips when he saw Peter.  


“Good to see you, kiddo,” Tony greeted quietly. “Morgan finally fell asleep watching Moana, so no big ragers tonight, you hear?” Peter smiled.  


“Good to see you too, Mr. Stark.” Tony’s posture changed as he sized up Peter’s appearance, looking concerned.  


“You’re pale. What happened?”  


Happy chose that moment to chime in from the open doorway.  


“Kid’s hungry. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, his blood sugar is probably tanking right now.” Peter turned to shoot Happy a venomous look and the older man just shrugged back. Luckily Tony didn’t notice the exchange and clasped his hands together.  


“Now that I can fix. What’re you feeling like, Pete? We’re getting takeout tonight, but in the meantime, we have a little leftover pasta, some soup—oh hell.” Tony’s eyes landed on the pot that was bubbling over and spilling onto the ground and he rushed to turn off the stove.  


Peter made a beeline for one of the couches the minute Tony’s attention was off him, fatigue pulling at his body and melting him into the cushions.  


He kind of spaced out again, attempting to drown out his headache by tuning into the white noise inside his head. He heard Tony invite Happy to stay for dinner and Happy decline, explaining he had to meet May at the airport on time for their flight to Mexico.  


Happy left with a “see ya later” over his shoulder and then it was just Peter and Tony.  


Tony, having cleaned up the mess on the stove, came and sat at the end of the couch and threw a protein bar at Peter.  


“Eat up, buttercup. I’m gonna order in dinner soon, what do you feel like?”  


Peter had absolutely no appetite, but he knew he had to eat. Stupid enhanced metabolism.  


“Um...I’m not really sure.”  


“Come on, kid. Don’t you have any preference? Pizza, Chinese...Thai?” Peter tried not to show his discomfort as his stomach sloshed warningly at the talk of food.  


“Yeah, um, Thai sounds good. Is Pepper gonna want anything?”  


“Pep is staying overnight at the Compound to oversee some SI stuff, so it’s just us for the night. Kiddo, I hate to say it, but I am exhausted. Morgan is a real handful when she’s sick. Is it alright if we postpone our lab day and turn in after dinner?”  


Peter nodded, both relieved and disappointed. That pang in his chest was back, and Peter felt bad. He hated to admit it, but he was a little jealous of Morgan. He kind of missed spending a ton of time with Tony, and he craved being around people right now but didn’t want to intrude and add more to Tony’s plate. Peter internally scolded himself for allowing himself to feel this way at all. He was just overtired, he shouldn’t be thinking he was a priority over Tony’s actual sick actual daughter.  


“Pete?” Peter startled when Tony tapped his arm to get his attention, realizing he had zoned out again. That was happening a lot today.  


“Hm? Sorry, yes. That sounds good.”  


“You look dead on your feet, bud. When’s the last time you got a full night of sleep?”  


“A few nights ago. Senior year is kind of kicking my ass, I’ve had a lot of homework,” Peter lied. Yes, he’s had tons of work, but even when he didn’t, he still couldn’t sleep. No amount of Melatonin or counting sheep seemed to change the fact that he was chronically awake.  


Tony seemed to believe that, but despite the lie, he still looked concerned.  


“An early night will be good for you, then.” Tony concluded, then stood up to start putting the cushions from the floor back in the missing places on the couches. Distantly, Peter wondered when Tony had become so mundane.  


\-------  


Later that night, once Peter had picked at his Thai food and inconspicuously wrapped a good portion of it in his napkin that he threw out as soon as he got the chance, Peter finally worked up the courage to ask to watch a movie with Tony before they headed to bed. He didn’t know why asking made him feel so weird, they used to watch movies all the time together. But that was before; before Peter had arrived back in a world that had seemingly moved on without him; a time where Tony had a kid who was biologically his.  


Now, asking for something like this felt like such a big task, no matter how much the rational part of Peter’s brain assured him it wasn’t. 

Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding when Tony agreed. He tossed Peter the remote to pick out a movie while he went to the kitchen to whip up some popcorn, .  


“Get it together, Parker,” he scolded himself, rubbing at his eyes in hopes of dulling the slowly worsening ache in his head, “Tony doesn’t have time for you to start losing it.”  


By the time Tony returned, Peter had dropped his hand from his forehead and the familiar opening credits to The Hunger Games were playing on the TV.  


Tony sat down by Peter on the couch with a bowl of popcorn he set down on the coffee table and Peter allowed himself to stretch his legs over Tony’s, feeling a little touch-starved and unwell.  


Not even twenty minutes into the movie, when Peter was finally starting to relax and his eyes were beginning to droop, a familiar voice came from the top of the steps.  


“Daddy,” Morgan sobbed, “I had a bad dream.” Tony shot Peter an apologetic look in the dull light of the TV as he stood up and headed up to Morgan.  


“Hey, Maguna. It’s okay, I can stay with you until you fall asleep again,” Tony said gently. Clearly overtired and cranky. Morgan stomped her foot, tears and snot running down her face looking overall very distraught.  


“I’m not going back to bed. The bad dreams will come back!” Morgan cried even harder, and the way her little voice was rising was amplifying Peter’s headache with vengeance. He covered his ears with his hands but it wasn’t enough to block everything that was going on from his enhanced senses.  


“What if you sleep in my room tonight, sweetheart? I’ll scratch your back if you want, and I’ll be right next to you if the bad dreams come back.”  


Morgan sniffed, pawing tiredly at her eyes with her hands, and nodded slowly.  


“I’ll be back down soon,” Tony said over his shoulder as he picked her up and walked down the hall to his bedroom.  


Peter, now awake as ever due to the unrelenting pain in his head and otherwise crippling insomnia, paused the movie as he waited for Tony to come back down. As the minutes ticked by, Peter grew more skeptical. Surely Tony was at least going to say goodnight before going to bed? 

Eventually, as fifteen minutes became thirty, and thirty became an hour, Peter realized that Tony wasn’t coming back down. He pressed play on the movie and watched absently until the ending credits played.  


The feeling in his chest burned more intensely than ever as he curled up into a ball and fell into a fitful sleep.  


\-----  


Peter woke up on the couch disoriented and overheated. There were vaguely hushed voices coming from the kitchen and there was a blanket over his shoulders that definitely wasn’t there when he fell asleep. It was a nice gesture, no doubtedly from Tony, but he was sweating buckets already and he pushed the blanket to the ground in an attempt to escape the uncomfortable heat .  


More awake now, he noticed he felt decidedly way worse than yesterday. The little bit of sleep he’d gotten hadn’t helped in the slightest, and he felt overall shitty. Despite being really hot, he was shivering as though he were cold and his senses were dialed up. Damn. This sucked. He took a few deep breaths to try and regulate his temperature, and it worked a little. 

Morgan was standing on a stool and trying to grab a wooden spoon from where it was sitting on the counter behind a few loose pans.  


“Oops!” Morgan giggled as she knocked them off and all the pans clattered around her.  


“Shhhh, Peter is sleeping.” Peter chose that moment to make his presence known.  


“No I’m not,” he mumbled tiredly, finally feeling steady enough to swing his feet around so they hit the ground.  


“Petey!” Morgan yelled, her feet pattering against the floor as she ran over to him. She threw herself into his arms. He stumbled, almost going back down as he swayed but managed to keep his footing.  


“You seem to be feeling better, Mo,” Peter noted, putting her down almost immediately and bracing himself on the arm of the couch. If she seemed put out by this, she didn’t show it.  


“My tummy doesn’t even hurt anymore! But Daddy said I couldn’t have pancakes today like you and I was really sad but instead I get oatmeal with apple slices and a juice pop at lunch if I’m good,” Morgan said excitedly.  


“That’s good. Did you sleep well last night?” Peter said, trying to keep his voice light. Tony grimaced despite Peter’s best efforts to avoid the topic.  


“I’m sorry, kiddo. I meant to come down and finish the movie with you but I ended up passing out alongside Morgan.”  


“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Peter said, the feeling in his chest coiled tighter than ever. “I conked out on the couch pretty much as soon as you left. You were right, I was pretty tired.” Another lie. Peter really was starting to weave himself into a web of them.  


“Still, I feel bad. Which is why I made you pancakes: just the way you like with triple the amount of chocolate chips than socially acceptable. With strawberries on the side.”  


“I helped!” Morgan chimed in. Peter took in the mess of the kitchen: the sugar spilled across the counter, the broken egg on the floor, and the flour in Morgan’s hair.  


“I can see that.” Morgan beamed.  


Tony finally looked up from the sizzling pancake on the pan and took in Peter’s disheveled appearance.  


"Woah, kid. You’re looking a little green around the gills there. You alright?” Peter thought about telling the truth, but then he looked down at the excitable little girl currently hanging onto his leg, and he forced a nod instead.  


“Yeah, I'm good. Got a bit of a headache, but that’ll be fixed with some food.” Tony gave him an odd look, before seemingly believing him.  


“Alright, there’s some pancakes there you can get started on before I’m done all these. Go ahead and get started.”  


Peter was able to force down a pancake and a half before he felt the nausea return at full force. His mouth filled with saliva and his throat tightened and he knew he was only minutes away from disaster.  


“Hey, I never really got the chance to unpack last night. I think I’m gonna head to my room and take a shower, put away all my stuff, all that.” Peter put all his effort into keeping his voice as steady as possible.  


“Sounds good, bud,” Tony said absently, distracted by the animated story Morgan was currently telling about some of the other kids in her Kindergarten class.  


The minute Peter stepped into his room and closed the door behind him, he headed immediately to the ensuite bathroom and turned the shower on full blast.  


Then, he kneeled in front of the toilet and promptly puked up his breakfast. He heaved hard and tried to be as quiet as possible as tears of exertion ran down his face.  


He was undeniably sick.  


Shit. He needed to tell Tony. He wanted his 'super-kid' meds that Bruce had synthesized for him, and honestly, he also just wanted a hug. When he was home, May always cuddled with him when he wasn’t feeling well. He longed for that kind of comfort right now.  


Peter actually did hop in the shower once his stomach settled, and the warm water helped his aching muscles feel better. He changed into a pair of sweats and pulled on an old t-shirt of Ben’s he didn’t even realize he had packed prior.  


Peter supposed he should have figured out he was sick before now. He didn’t really get sick anymore, but when he used to he would always put on Ben’s old clothes; it was comforting.  


He practiced saying the words in his head as he walked down the hall on shaky legs, anxious for no real reason. It was his fever, mostly, but also in part very real insecurity that had planted itself in his head since the Reversal that Tony wouldn’t care about him anymore the moment he became a burden. He had his own daughter now, after all. Still, he took a deep breath and spoke.  


“Um, Mr Stark, I’m not really—”  


“One sec, Pete. Morgan’s throat hurts again, can you grab her a juice pop from the freezer while I get the thermometer from the bathroom?”  


“Oh. Yeah, sure.”  


“Wait, Petey. Lift me up, I wanna get it out of the box myself but Mommy puts them on the top shelf so I can’t reach them,” Morgan said, tugging on Peter’s sleeve. Peter ran a shaky hand over his face.  


“Sure, Mo,” he said tiredly. He picked her up under the armpits, and Peter wishes he could turn back time and erase what happened next.  


Somehow Morgan’s little foot had gotten tucked partially into his hoodie pocket when he lifted her up, and as he went to put her down, she tried to pull her foot out. The sudden movement knocked him off balance, and Morgan tumbled into the kitchen counter behind them, arm outstretched.  


Her shriek is not one Peter will ever forget.  


“Oh my god, Morgan!” Peter knelt down to see what was wrong, what was hurting, but black and white spots flooded his eyes and he fell to his butt. Tony ran down in panic at the sound of his daughter’s sobbing.  


“What the hell happened?” Tony asked frantically, getting on the floor with them and checking Morgan over from head to toe.  


“Peter dropped me!” Morgan bawled.  


“What?" Tony looked stricken. "Jesus, Peter! What were you thinking?” Tony’s words stung more than a slap in the face.  


“I-I’m sorry.” Tony’s expression was stony and unreadable as he wrapped Morgan up in a blanket and maneuvered her into his arms, avoiding her arm as she continued to sob.  


“I’m taking her to the hospital. Her arm is already swelling, I don’t want to risk it being broken and us not getting it checked.”  


“I’m so sorry,” Peter said again, trying to keep his voice from trembling. Tony didn’t pay him any attention, focusing solely on trying to calm Morgan down.  


“Rhodey will be here before I’m back, he’s coming for lunch. Please clean up the kitchen while we’re gone. And for the love of God, Peter. She’s just a little kid. You have to be more careful.”  


Tony was loading Morgan into the car within minutes, and even after they pulled out of the driveway, Morgan’s sobs echoed in his head. She had been crying because of him.  


The feeling in his chest was burning now, like a fire spreading to his head and stomach as he watched them pull out of the driveway. He tried to make his way to his room so he could lie down, but he had to stop in the hall when he got too dizzy to move forward.  


Just standing there unable to move, he let his guilt bubble to the surface.  


None of this would’ve happened if he’d just stayed away. He wouldn’t have dropped Morgan, she wouldn’t have even been in danger if he hadn’t come over. Her arm would be fine, she wouldn’t be hurt. God, he couldn’t forget the way she was wailing. That was his fault. _His fault_. Heat was rolling over him in waves, suffocating heat. He tried to take in a breath, and _oh god_. He couldn’t _breathe_.  


His knees hit the ground hard as he tried to heave air into his lungs, embarrassment, and guilt and so many other unrecognizable emotions were all bundled up and being amplified by his fever.  


He was so overwhelmed, so dizzy, and everything was dialed to eleven. He tugged his nails across his skin, hoping to get relief from how tight his skin felt against him. He felt so claustrophobic, everything was way too much. How could he be so goddamn stupid.  


Ever since coming back from the Snap, everything was different. Tony had Morgan now. He had the kid he’d always wanted, and there was soon going to be no room for Peter if he kept messing up like this. Peter was losing Tony, and he had no way of getting him back if that happened. That’s how it always worked, anyone he trusted and loved like a father was taken away from him.  


Just like Ben.  


_Ben._

Oh god. Peter sobbed into his hands, hard, his whole body shaking. He missed him. The way Ben would hold him tight when he was sick, the way he always knew instantly when he wasn’t feeling well. Ben always knew what he needed, often before Peter himself even knew. Peter craved that feeling of love more than anything else right now, and all he could do was cry in its absence.  


In the midst of his panic attack, he hadn’t even heard the door open.  


“Peter?” A soft voice called from the door. Pepper was home from work. “Tony texted me the situation and—oh my god. Peter!” Peter only cried harder as he heard Pepper rushing into the hallway, her every step feeling like it was pounding straight into his skull.  


“Are you bleeding anywhere? Holy shit, Peter, what’s going on?” Pepper kneeled down beside him, hesitant to touch but hovering her hands nearby.  


“I want Ben,” he cried, beginning to feel detached from his body. His head felt fuzzy and he found himself struggling to stay conscious. Pepper made a soft noise in her throat.  


“Come here, honey,” she said, opening her arms. Peter melted into her embrace, and Pepper gasped a little as his skin made contact. “How long have you had a fever?”  


But Peter was beyond words at this point. Being wrapped in her arms only made him cry harder. He didn’t deserve this; didn’t she know who’s fault it was that his daughter was in the hospital? His breathing picked up again, he was going through the motions but no air was entering his lungs.  


“I need you to breathe with me, alright? Inhale for 4, hold for 7, let out for 8. Can you do that with me, sweetheart?”  
Peter managed to keep up with her as she counted, and his breathing slowly began to even out. but the tears didn’t stop falling. Nothing felt real at this point, he was floating and detached and void of all feeling but fear and hurt.  


He could vaguely make out Pepper’s voice talking to someone else, but he couldn’t focus on anything.  


“Rhodey, thank god. He’s _burning_.” There was another hand that moved against his forehead, this one rougher than Pepper’s soft touch, but none less gentle.  


“We need to get him into the tub. I’ll carry him there, can you go ahead and fill the bath? Less than halfway with lukewarm water.” Rhodey was talking seriously, and he sounded scared. Peter was losing a grip on his surroundings.  


“And call Tony. Ask him what symptoms Peter’s had since he’s been here.”  


“I will.” A soft kiss was pressed to his hairline before footsteps retreated down the hall.  


That was the last thing he processed before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony was relieved to find that Morgan’s arm was only sprained. 

He had ended up taking her to the walk-in clinic where Morgan’s pediatrician works only twenty-something minutes away (a fact that had gone into the location they chose when house hunting). The office was closer than the hospital and he figured there would be less of a wait than there would be at a hospital.  


He was right, there wasn’t much activity on a Saturday morning and Doctor Novak got her looked at within 20 minutes. Being the savior of the Universe has its perks.  


The doctor gave her a little brace to wear to make sure she didn’t jostle her arm too much and recommended Children’s Motrin and if she was still in a lot of pain after a dose, she could have a bit of Tylenol as well. Along with the instruction to ice it on and off for a few days, this was definitely something Tony could handle.  


Once Morgan was content watching _Barbie: Dreamhouse Adventures_ on the StarkPad in her car seat, Tony felt himself finally start to relax. The situation had de-escalated, and he was starting to feel a little guilty for how harsh he was with Peter. Morgan had explained to him and the doctor how her foot got caught on his sweatshirt, and Tony knew it had been an accident. It was hard to admit, but he had overreacted a bit. He hoped the kid wasn’t beating himself up too much over it, but he’d definitely apologize when he got home. He owed him that much, especially with how worn out Peter had seemed lately. That kid definitely did not get enough sleep.  


“Boss, Ms. Potts is on the phone,” FRIDAY spoke from his watch.  


“Put her through, FRI.”  


He listened for the click as the line connected before talking.  


“Hey, Pep. The doctor checked Morg out and she’s gonna need to wear a brace for a while, but it’s just a sprain.”  


“That’s great, Tony, but—”  


“Speaking of which, I’m really considering starting a new line of Starktech health care. I was looking around the clinic today and I noticed that—”  


“Tony,” Pepper interrupted. Water was running in the background on her end of the call.  


“Uh oh, that’s your serious voice,” Tony quipped, “What’d I do, file the wrong paperwork again? Your assistant can handle it, she needs more work to do anyways. You’re too easy on her.” Pepper let out a heavy breath.  


“This _is_ serious, Tony. It’s Peter. What kind of—”  


“Shit, is he really upset? I didn’t mean it, Morgan was just crying and I was stressed...everything was happening so fast—”  


“Can you listen to me, please? I need to know right now what symptoms Peter’s had since he got here. Is there anything we should be keeping an eye on?” Tony faltered.  


“What do you mean symptoms?”  


“He’s really sick, Tony. His temp is over 104, and you know he runs cold already. There’s no way he spiked a fever that high in the short time between you leaving and me getting home.” Images of Peter’s pale complexion from last night and his shaky demeanor this morning flashed through his mind, and he paled, all previous traces of humour gone.  


“Oh my, god. He said he was just tired…and I was so busy with Morgan...” Tony lifted a hand off the wheel and dragged it down his face. God, how could he have messed up like this? He’d known something was off with the kid, Peter had been quiet since he’d arrived, but he’d kind of just dismissed it as teenage angst or something. Usually, he would’ve asked him about it, but there was so much going on...shit. This was on him.  


“Are you telling me that Peter’s had a steadily climbing fever for the past day and a half and you didn’t notice?” There was a warning note in Pepper’s voice as the situation became clearer to her.  


“He should’ve said something!” Morgan looked up from her show in alarm at his tone, and Tony lowered his voice. “Why didn’t he say anything?”  


“You know he’s working on that!” Pepper hissed. “He was probably feeling overwhelmed; he was in the midst of a panic attack when I got here, gasping things about how he wasn’t good enough, and something was all his fault. You know how he gets, don’t you think maybe he was feeling like a bit of a burden, being sick when Morgan’s just been sick as well?” His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. She was right, as always. Tony felt like shit. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so bad.  


“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Tony said bitterly.  


“You know that’s not what I’m saying. I’m not just blaming you, Tony. I know he tries pretty hard to hide things. It’s just...you need to try to pay attention. You’re supposed to be his guardian this week, and Tony, right now, you’re the closest thing that kid has to a father, biology be damned. I’m not saying this is all your fault. I’m just...I’m sorry. It was really hard to see him like that,” Pepper’s voice broke. “I walked in the house and he was on the floor of the hall crying for his uncle, delirious out of his mind. It was unsettling. I had FRIDAY call Bruce before I called you, he’s on his way, but he’s about an hour out. Cho’s even further, so we’re waiting for Bruce to assess first. She’s standing by at the Compound if it’s necessary we bring him in. We have to try and get his fever down in the meantime.”  


“Pepper, is the tub ready?” A familiar voice called in the background.  


“Rhodey’s there?” A bit of rustling was heard over the line as Pepper pulled the phone away from her face and confirmed.  


“Yeah, he showed up a bit ago and—”  


“Shit! He’s seizing!” Rhodey yelled, and Tony felt his breath catch in his throat. His kid was sick, and he wasn’t even there to help. He pressed his foot even harder on the gas.  


“How fast can you get here?” Pepper asked urgently, the light echo of her footsteps on the hardwood sounding through the phone.  


“I’m less than 10 minutes out. I’ll be there soon.”  


“Okay. I’ll see you when you get here.” The line went dead.  


“Daddy, is Petey gonna be okay?” Morgan’s little voice chirped from the backseat. She sounded scared, and Tony tried to keep his voice as steady as possible when he spoke.  


“He’s gonna be just fine, sweetheart. He’s just not feeling well right now, but he’s got a lot of people helping him feel better.” Tony hoped to god that his words were true. The speedometer didn’t dip below 90 once the rest of the way home.  


\---------  


When Tony arrived home, he sent Morgan to her bedroom for some quiet playtime and told her he’d be up to check on her in a bit before rushing down the hall to Peter’s room, hearing the commotion going on inside. The sight that greeted him when he stepped into the bathroom was worse than he expected.  


Peter was shirtless in the tub, and Rhodey was pushing Peter’s shoulders down trying to keep him from climbing out of the bath while Peter thrashed and cried.  


“Stop, stop, stop, please! Don’t hurt me!” Peter pleaded, kicking a leg out. His eyes were glazed over and delirious. He looked terrified as Rhodey tried to be as gentle as possible in holding him down, Peter’s superstrength proving to be an obstacle. Pepper was standing there, wet washcloth in one hand and phone in the other, which had Peter’s biometric tracker app pulled up on the screen. She was monitoring his temperature, looking ready to jump into action at any moment.  


“What can I do?” Tony asked over Peter’s cries, getting over his initial shock.  


“Try to calm him down! He’s hallucinating, he doesn’t know what’s going on,” Rhodey said.  


“Pep, Morgan’s upstairs by herself. Mind checking on her?” Tony suggested, giving her a look. Peter didn’t need a crowd in here, and Pepper nodded in understanding before leaving the phone and washcloth on the counter next to the sink and walking out.  


Kneeling next to the tub, Tony reached out and grabbed one of Peter’s flailing arms, but Peter slapped him away with a loud cry.  


“Please,” he whispered, his voice wrecked, “Go away.” A fresh wave of guilt washed over Tony, so intensely his heart hurt. He should’ve noticed sooner. But he needed to focus on Peter now.  


“Sorry, kiddo. Can’t just leave you here like this, now can I? That would make me a bad host.” Tony quipped weakly, but it had the effect he’d hoped for. Peter responded to the familiar voice, and when Tony reached out again, Peter grasped onto it instead of pulling away. Peter’s demeanor changed instantaneously as Tony gripped his hand, his eyes slipping closed as he relaxed.  


“Ben,” he mumbled. He stopped fighting, and Tony’s heart shattered. He looked so young, shaking and vulnerable in the water as he was.  


“No, buddy. It’s Tony,” he said softly, signaling for Rhodey to switch places with him now that Peter was calmer. Closer to Peter’s head, he brought his other hand up and ran his fingers through his curls, a motion both Peter and Tony were familiar with. Peter sighed contentedly.  


“I’ve missed you, Ben.”  


Tony was grateful Rhodey didn’t mention the tear that ran down his own face.  


\------  


Once Peter’s biometrics tracker showed his temperature had lowered to 102.2 (which wasn’t great, but significantly better than what it had been earlier) Tony had helped the semi-conscious teenager out of the bath and into some dry clothes before getting him in bed. Bruce had Peter swallow one of the super pills before administering an IV line.  


“Him getting dehydrated right now could be really bad,” Bruce informed, “It’s best to be on top of this kind of thing, fevers can be tricky.”  


Peter didn’t say anything the entire time, which just attested to how out of it he was. He barely even flinched when Bruce put the needle in (and Tony knew Peter hated needles), and fell asleep the second he was allowed to lie down.  


Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead and as he left the door a crack open and headed to the kitchen he distantly wondered how much of today the kid was going to remember.  


Lunch duty was dumped on Rhodey, but they were all gathered around the counter while Morgan played with her dolls in the living room.  


Rhodey was in the midst of buttering a piece of bread when Tony finally spoke.  


“Okay, Brucie bear. Lay it all out, here. Do we need to take him to the Compound medbay? I’d rather be safe than sorry, especially after everything that’s happened.”  


“No,” Bruce responded confidently. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. We should keep a close eye on him, and I set him up with an IV to combat his fever and dehydration, but this doesn’t look like it’s anything other than a flu.”  


“Banner, he had a seizure,” Rhodey stated. “That doesn’t just happen with your normal run of the mill flu.”  


“Yes. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. From what I can tell, this whole situation is the result of Peter’s enhancements going haywire.”  


“You’ve lost me there, Brucie. What caused them to make him so sick like that?” Tony inquired.  


“Yeah, aren’t his powers supposed to _prevent_ him from getting sick?” Rhodey added.  


“Considering Peter’s enhancements weren’t specifically engineered in a lab and monitored like Steve’s super-serum, there’s no exact blueprint to know what we’re working with. And I don’t think they made him sick, per se. I believe that he picked up a particularly nasty flu bug somewhere, and his body was already so taxed that it didn’t know what to do. See, normally, his immune system would work to kick it with a fever in a day or two. The problem is, if he hasn’t been taking good care of himself, maybe he hasn’t been sleeping or eating enough, for example, his enhanced system didn’t know how to stop. His system overcompensated for how hard it actually needed to work. Then, when he continued to push himself even after he wasn’t feeling well, he was so physically and emotionally taxed, his fever spiked resulting in the seizure and delirium,” Bruce explained. Rhodey handed out sandwiches and Tony let out a low whistle.  


“Damn. For someone who isn’t a real doctor, that’s pretty insightful.”  


“I have 7 PhDs!”  


“And not one of those is an MD.”  


“I’ve also been in contact with Cho,” Bruce admitted, “We’ve been talking the past couple hours and we think it would be best if we took him into the Compound for some testing at some point. When he’s well enough to travel, and only if he’s willing, of course. We realized we don’t know much about his enhancements, and I don’t want to be caught by surprise like this again.” Tony mulled that over for a moment. He didn’t love the idea of them experimenting on his kid, but Bruce had a point.  


“I’ll talk to him. But no forcing him into anything he’s uncomfortable with,” Tony delegated, feeling worn out.  


“Of course not. It wouldn’t be anything too serious, just taking some blood and looking at it, we wouldn’t be trying anything new.”  


“Don’t ask him about it until he’s feeling better,” Pepper added. “This kid doesn’t need any extra stress right now.”  
Bruce nodded, his mouth full of sandwich.  


“Hey! Those sandwiches were gonna be for the tea party!” Morgan accused from the living room. Bruce looked like a deer caught in the headlights and hastily swallowed his bite.  


“Uh-” he stuttered, looking intimidated by the small child currently scowling at him. Tony let out a chuckle and Bruce glared daggers at him.  


“Daddy and I have to have a talk right now. But I’m sure Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Bruce would be happy to bring their sandwiches over and join your tea party,” Pepper suggested. At the matching stares from the men, Pepper smiled innocently.  


“Is Daddy in trouble?” Morgan queried.  


“We’ll see. Now go play before Uncle Bruce starts eating the furniture.” Morgan dragged them out of the kitchen and into her playroom, already talking up a storm. That kid did not stay down for long.  


The minute they were out of earshot, Pepper turned to face him.  


“May left Peter in our care, trusting we could keep him out of trouble while she was gone,” Pepper said. Tony sat down on a kitchen stool and put his head in his hands.  


“I know. I really fucked up.” Pepper walked over and started running her well-manicured hand up and down his back.  


“You did. But it’s not going to do any good if you just dissolve into self-pity and guilt. You’re a parent, honey. You’re gonna get it wrong sometimes, that’s just how this goes.”  


“I hurt him. You said it yourself. Maybe it wasn’t physically, but the way I reacted to Morgan’s fall by lashing out at Peter didn’t make me any better than my father.”  


“You aren’t Howard. You’re _trying_ , which is more than he ever did. But you did make a mistake. And Peter’s a complicated kid with a lot going on. You’re going to have to talk to him, Tony.”  


“I know.” Tony hoped it would be enough.  


\--------  


Peter woke up alone in his bed, feeling vaguely less shitty than he had in a few days. His head still hurt and his muscles were achy, but any discomfort he’d been feeling earlier was significantly dulled.  


The blackout curtains Tony had put up a while back prevented him from seeing how light it was outside (which he was very grateful for, especially right now when he didn’t think his senses could handle the extra light), so he flipped on his phone to check the time. He was surprised to see it was almost dinner time. Peter tried to rack his brain of everything that had happened that day, but it was all kind of a blur. He remembered feeling worse than he’s ever felt in his life and then….oh shit. Morgan. A wave of shame washed over him as he recalled the look on Tony’s face earlier. Before he had time to spiral, Pepper was at his doorway, holding a phone to her ear that she lowered to talk to him.  


“Peter, honey? Are you awake?”  


“Yeah,” Peter mumbled, shifting into a sitting position. He reached over to try to switch on his lamp, but a wave of vertigo had him sinking back into his comfortable (expensive) mattress. Pepper was over in an instant to flip it on for him, and dull yellow light filled the room.  


“Do you need anything?” Pepper asked.  


“I’m okay.” Peter was suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was. “Actually, could I have a glass of water?”  


“Sure thing, sweetie. I’ll go grab that for you. But before I leave—” Pepper handed him the phone.  


“It’s May,” she added, and Peter looked up in surprise.  


“She called, said she hadn’t heard from you in a while and that you weren’t answering your phone. I let her know what’s going on, but I’ll let you two talk. I’ll be back in a bit with some stuff to get you more comfortable.” Pepper gave him a small smile before walking out to give them some privacy.  


“Hey, May,” he said quietly, “I’m sick.”  


“I heard, tough guy. Do you want me to come home? I’m sure Tony could arrange something; I know you don’t like being alone when you aren’t feeling well.”  


“No, it’s okay. It’s just...” Peter sniffed, “It’s just a lot right now.”  


May seemed to know what he was talking about, who he was referring to, but whether Pepper had talked to her or she was feeling the same way he didn’t know.  


“I know, baby. I know.” Neither of them said anything for a minute, but Peter relaxed listening to the sound of May’s soft breathing over the phone.  


“Do you ever think about where we’d be now if things had been different?”  


“Not as often as I used to. But,” May sighed, “Yes. Sometimes.”  


Peter was silent.  


“Peter, I know the anniversary is coming up soon. Is that all that’s been bothering you? I know you haven’t been sleeping.” Peter knew it was more than the anniversary of Ben’s death coming up, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her what this was actually about. He couldn’t talk to anyone about what was going on in his head. They would all think he was a horrible person, being jealous of a 5-year-old like this, being and feeling so out of place since he came back. They would see him as he sees himself, and he didn’t think he could handle that. He couldn’t handle Tony being more disappointed in him than he already was.  


“May…”  


“I’m worried about you, Peter.”  


“I know. I’m sorry,” Peter’s voice broke and he brought a hand up to wipe his eyes.  


“Shhh, don’t cry, baby. It’s gonna be okay. I know it’s hard right now, but it’s gonna be okay.” May soothed through the phone. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come home early?”  


Peter looked up to where Pepper had just arrived at his door holding a glass of water and he hastily rubbed the tears that had escaped off his face.  
“No, I’m okay, May. I love you.”  


“I love you, too. Before you hang up, can I talk to Pepper?”  


“Yeah, she’s right here. Bye.”  


“I’ll see you in a week. Feel better, sweetheart.”  


“Thanks, May.” Peter held his phone out to Pepper and she set down the glass of water and a pill onto his bedside table before taking it from his hand. She listened for a moment before responding.  


“Don’t worry, May. We’re taking good care of him. Bruce suspects he’ll be back and climbing up the walls in just a couple days.”  


Peter stopped listening as he picked up his TV remote and started scrolling through Netflix. By the time Pepper hung up the phone, Brooklyn Nine-Nine was playing on the screen in front of his bed.  


“Here Peter, Bruce told me to bring you this.” Pepper held out the pill she had brought in earlier. “It’s time for your next dose.”  


“Thanks.” Peter popped the capsule in his mouth and raised the water to his lips with wobbly hands.  


Pepper took notice of how badly his hands were shaking and placed a steadying hand underneath the cup. He blushed at the help but sent her a grateful look all the same.  


“Small sips, honey. I don’t want you to make yourself sick,” Pepper advised when Peter started gulping it down, realizing how thirsty he was. He slowed reluctantly before Pepper took the glass away and set it on his bedside table.  


“Do you need anything else before I go?” The water was settling kind of heavily in his stomach, and he really didn’t want to throw up again. His mind went to how May used to heat up a sock full of rice and lay it on his stomach when it was hurting.  


“Um, do you guys have a heating pad anywhere? It’s totally fine if you don’t but...I-I’m just, uh, I’m a little nauseous.”  


“Of course, sweetie. I have one in my closet. I’ll go grab it for you.”  
Pepper returned a couple of minutes later with a heating pad that she plugged in and a freshly-lined trash can that she put next  


“Just in case,” she said lightly, and Peter blushed again.  


“Thank you, Pepper,” he said quietly.  


“No problem. Just holler if you need anything.”  


With the heating pad relaxing his muscles and Jake Peralta talking on screen, Peter quickly felt his eyes drooping shut and he didn't resist.  


\--------  


Peter startled awake for the second time when Tony knocked at his door, holding a bowl of what looked like soup and a small spoon. He flashed Tony a weak smile.  


“Hey, kiddo,” Tony greeted. “Sorry to wake you, but it's chow time. You haven't eaten all day.”  


“Thanks,” Peter responded, sitting up with some effort.  


“How are you feeling?”  


Peter shrugged. “Been better.”  


“I’ll bet. You gave us quite the scare, earlier.” Peter’s smile faded and he suddenly became very interested in fiddling with the edge of his comforter.  


“I’m sorry.” Regret instantly flashed over Tony’s face.  


“No, that’s not what I mean, Pete. You don’t have to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for,” Tony paused. “I’m the one who owes you an apology here. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you about Morgan getting hurt.”  


“I kind of deserved that. It _was_ my fault.” Tony flinched a little.  


“No, it wasn’t, kid. Not at all. And I never should have made you feel like it was. That was just a freak accident that could’ve happened to any one of us watching Morgan, and in case nobody told you: she’s fine. Her arm wasn’t even broken. It wasn’t fair for me to react like that, I’m the adult and I know I wasn’t acting like it.”  


“You really aren’t mad?” Peter asked, looking up at him with big eyes.  


“Well, I would definitely appreciate it if you would communicate with me, in future.” Peter turned his head to the side, diverting his gaze. “But no, kid. I’m not mad. At all. I’m sorry if I’ve been making you neglected, or like you aren’t enough, and I shouldn’t have lashed out at you about Morgan getting hurt.”  


“It’s okay—”  


“No, it’s not okay. And I really am sorry. But kid, you gotta tell me what’s going on. Bruce said it wouldn’t have gotten this bad if you’d been taking care of yourself, so spill the beans, kiddo. What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” Peter closed his eyes for a moment, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. He really didn’t want to cry right now. He’d been so emotional all day, and logically he knew it was from the fever, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing.  


“It’s nothing,” he lied, his throat tight. Tony sat down on the bed next to him and rested a hand on his knee.  


“You and I both know this isn’t nothing,” Tony said, his voice gentler than Peter had ever heard it. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was just months of bottled up emotions finally spilling through, but Peter started to cry.  


It wasn’t a frantic, panicked breakdown like he’d had earlier, he just sat there with his eyes closed as tears ran down his face and his shoulders shook. He was just. So exhausted. No amount of sleep could fix the bone-deep fatigue pulling at his mind. He was tired of his brain.  


Before he could spiral more, he felt warm, familiar arms wrap themselves around him and Peter crumpled into them.  


“I don’t want you to hate me,” Peter whispered, and the youth in his voice just about broke Tony’s heart. Tony pulled away and held Peter by the shoulders so he could look him in the eyes.  


“I could _never_ hate you, kid. No matter what.”  


The dam broke.  


Once Peter started talking, it was hard to stop. He’d been dealing with his insecurities for so long, tried to ignore how anxious and out of place he’d been feeling lately that it all just came flooding out.  


He talked about how he couldn’t sleep, the awful feeling in his chest, and, with more difficulty, about how he wasn’t sure where he belonged now after everything that had happened. Peter attempted to mention Ben, but his throat closed up when he tried to talk about it and Tony didn’t press the topic. There were some things that Peter didn’t know if he’d ever be able to share.  


Tony just listened intently as Peter talked, squeezing his hand occasionally when he’d start to clam up and get anxious, which gave the kid enough encouragement to keep going, but he otherwise said nothing.  


When Peter was finished talking, both were silent for a moment.  


“Okay, I’m gonna lay out some suggestions here, alright? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to but...I think it might be a good idea if you started seeing a therapist.” At Peter’s distasteful look, Tony backtracked. “Before you shoot this down, hear me out. Shit gets hard in this line of work. I know a few good ones who I could get you set up with that you could trust even with your—” Tony waved his hand, looking for the word. Spidey business.”  


“I don’t want to see a shrink,” Peter mumbled, pulling his covers up to his chin.  


“If you don’t feel ready right now, that’s alright. Nobody’s gonna rush you. But think about it, okay? Maybe talk with May, too. You don’t have to be alone in this, buddy.”  


“I’ll think about it.”  


“You know, I see a therapist.” Peter lifted his head in surprise.  


“You do?”  


“Not as often as I used to, but sometimes I still give her a call and we talk things out. It’s not healthy to bottle things up. I should know, I was the CEO of self-destructive behaviors. I don’t want you to wait so long as I did. I put myself through a lot of unnecessary suffering that only ended up hurting me and all the people who tried to care about me. You’ve got a whole village, Pete. Let us help.” Peter looked at Tony then, totally and utterly trusting.  


“Do you think we can talk about this later when I’m on less medication and not laying in bed like an invalid?”  


“Of course, Underoos.” Tony gave him a little nudge. “But honestly, you’ve got the Hulk and War Machine waiting on you hand and foot. That doesn’t seem so bad.”  


Peter smiled.  


“Ned is so gonna flip when he hears about this.” Tony ruffled his hair.  


“You can tell him all about it when you’re feeling better. For now, eat your soup. Get some more rest, Lord knows you could use it.” Tony shifted and Peter reached out before he even processed what he was doing.  


“Can you stay?” Peter asked hesitantly, face reddening as he realized how blunt he was being.  


Tony settled back against the bed and Peter curled into his side.  


“I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Peter finally got his hug. Writing his phone call with May made me emotional idek why it just created. so. many. feels. for me.  
> I had a lot of fun writing this, this was probably originally supposed to be about 2k words or so but it kind of grew from there as I typed.  
> I do apologize if this seems rushed, I tried my best but I have an assignment to finish and it's been hard to work on it when all I've been thinking about is this lmao. I had to check something off my ever piling up list of stuff sooner or later.  
> I hope this was a satisfying enough part2, thank you guys for the positive response to the last chapter!  
> Comments make my whole entire day, leave them as you please :)

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, hope you enjoyed :) i'm hoping to get the next and final chapter up kind of soon (though...school....so), let me know how you feel about this! leave comments as you please :)))   
> find me on tumblr : akapeterman  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/akapeterman


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